Taking Care of Business
by SilverSnikle
Summary: One-Shot. Zod makes a house call. Zodess.


Taking Care of Business

She ran the brush slowly through her thick auburn hair, her mind focused intently on the task at hand. Not the task literally at her hand. No, the other task currently at hand, this General from the past of a forgotten planet. This Zod, he was the focus of her thoughts. She knew all too well that men were not to be trusted, but she also knew that to openly oppose a man of great power could often end in your demise. She had to be smart; she had to play this out very close to the chest.

Movement behind her reflected into the mirror. She paused, but resumed her motions so that the movement appeared fluid. A foreign hand ran down the back of her hair, sending chills to the ends of her toes. Her mask of content features did not falter. The hand closed around the ends of her hair and pulled gently, not even enough to move her head, just enough to create pressure.

"Tess, Tess, Tess... My Love. I always wondered how you got your hair to shine like the embers of a dying fire." His voice was deep and husky. The smile on his lips resembled something closer to a grimace.

Tess put the brush down on her table and turned to face him as he let go of her hair. She raised an eyebrow and twisted the corner of her mouth upwards. He was looking down at her, his eyes filled with what she was sure was supposed to be lust, but came off more as hunger. Her throat started to constrict, breathing becoming a chore. She fought to keep her heart's beating to at a normal pace. Slowly, her throat loosened and she breathed easily. She had to remind herself that for the moment, she held just as much control over him as he held over her.

"It's been a very long day. I need my rest," He did not move when she stood up. Their bodies were mere centimeters apart, their lips even closer. She inhaled his intoxicating foreign smell. "If you'll excuse me."

As her lips moved to form those words they slid over and pressed against his. She felt it as he let his lips part slightly. His warm breath spread across her lips, warming her to the core. He slid his hand under the tie of her robe, tugged slightly at it, and his eyes never left the curve of her lips. As the robe fell open, she remembered what was under it.

"What a nice present. Are we celebrating?" He leaned his head to the side and placed his lips against her neck. He kissed her lightly there before meeting her eyes evenly.

"I couldn't decide what to wear." She thought about reaching out, touching him, but she knew he preferred this illusion of her vulnerability.

"I prefer this, _lack _of clothing, myself, to whatever it was you could not decide between." He slid his middle finger along the top of her right shoulder, pushing the silk fabric off.

She didn't move, didn't dare breathe, wouldn't allow herself to blink. He broke their stare to focus on her lips, causing her to lick them in a nervous gesture. Luckily for her, it came across as a calculated move.

For a moment he forgot the rules of their game, this charade. He crushed his lips into hers, breathed her in. He lost himself in the ecstasy that was her mouth. An involuntary hand slid up the back of her neck, fisted a handful of her hair. When she moaned into him he felt it deep within him.

She was stunned. Yes, there ad always been a certain amount of tension in the air between them, they flirted with this _line_ all day long. Yet, he had never once closed the distance between them, and she had never truly expected him to. She was suddenly aware of her arms wrapped round his neck, his hand in her hair, the other holding tight to her hip. Her eyes shot open, wide with shock.

He pulled away, a true look of lust now swirling around his irises. She gulped for air, afraid she'd drown in his stare. He pressed his lips to hers, gently and when their eyes met again she felt it was a question. Was it possible to let everything else go, forget who they were, where they were and just be? Be together? A weak, small voice in the back of her mind said _no_. It tried to sound strong and sure, but it failed.

He pressed his soft lips to hers again, this time teasing her closed lips with his tongue, asking permission to deepen this kiss. She fought it, tried to press her lips together tightly. His grip on her hair loosened, his hand moved to her face. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, her ear, her neck. She wasn't sure when she gave in. She could feel him smile into her and wondered what a true smile looked like on his face. Part of her wanted to break the kiss, to answer that question, but she was powerless to do any such thing.

As he laid her back against her sheets and her head landed on a pillow, a fleeting thought crossed her mind, "Business can wait 'til morning."


End file.
